The Abilene reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1883-1888, 1887-12-22
MARRIED IN HASTE.
a Girls Narrow Escape From Be-
ing Disinherited.

The night before my wedding-day
Was ever night so full of hours-werC
ever hours SO full of dreary minutes
that seemed to crawl after each Other
through its dead, cold gloom?
Yet it was, by my own consent. tc
he my wedding-day tomorrow. had
said it; l had not only said it, but had
said should never repent.
AS the early dawn breaks through
the gloom of night hear the old cock
in the farm-yard give a dismal hoot,
preparatory to his first crow to the new
day.
And, utterly tired out, 1 drop asleep.
two three four-five six
seven-eight beats of the tall old clock
on the stairhead outside my door and
lump wildly to my feet.
''At nine o'clock, then," he had said.
/ had only one hour-only one hour
to be Norah Glennie.
At the time that clock struck ten ]
should be Norah Mapleson-a wife, a
true wife to a true husband.
1rearrango my dress with feverish
haste.
1 only stop to drink cup of milk ere
i leave the house, only just in time to
catch the train as it passes our couutry
station.
/ am in time.
Once more my hands are clasped in
his.
We say no word; only hurry through
the sleepy streets till we enter the dingy
office where, by some strange method.
we are made man and wife. All is a
dream to me.
L wonder vaguely where are nv
bridesmaids, where are are my father
and mother? Bah! why of course they
are dead long, long ago. l have only
my old uncle, and he is lying bedridden
ut Norlington Farm.
How could he be here? The only
thing that seems real to me is the shin
ing ring on my finger.
/ look at it in a kind of fear as l draw
my old kid glove over it before leaving
the house into which Norah Glennie
Had gone few minutes ago. and out
of which now a white. startled woman
was issuing-Norah Mapleson.
Don't be so distressed, my darling!
Don't look so or l can not bear itr'
1 draw deep breath; stretch ont
my hand little wildly, suppose, for
he takes it firmly in his and lays it on
his arm as he hurries me through the
streets back again in the direction of
the railway station.
Once more we are in the train. '-s
''Mine-mine foreveri do not fear
the future now!' is all my husband
says; but there is a world of love in his
eyes.
Poor William! In a weeks time he
will be on the ocean and we will have
parted for many neutrality-suspicious.
years.
He lets me rest quietly in his arms
during the very short journey back
again to Norlington. / get out of the
train alone. as he is going on some
business two stations further on; then
he will come back for the rest of the
week to the farm.
Before you 60 into his room, wife.
darling, you will take it off?"-and he
touches my finger, on which the bright
new wedding ring glitters.
Il can notr' say, shuddering. "It
rs unlucky to remove wedding ringr'
But my darling, his sharp eyes
will
The train goes on, and 1 am alone.
Il see his face look at me from the win
dow. alarmed and anxious; but I nod
reaSSuringly and he smiles.
1t causes no remark that I have been
out so early this morning, for eyery-
thing lately is so upset by reason of NV
unc!e's illness and Williams near de-
parture.
Then, again. there is only old Betty
In the kitchen; and perhaps she scarcely
knows l have been out; and il the
aurse who has been called in to attend
ny uncle knows, she, doubtless, thinks
1 have been into town on some house,
1Oid errand.
About my ring. 1 must hide it; but
i can not take it of. hurry up into my
room, and hurriedly turn over the con-
tents OF an old musty dressing-case
that had been my fathers. Where can
it bee That old garnet ring with the
queer under-groove in it that feel sure
asili let this thin wedding ring slip into
1t and so keep my secret from prying
eyes.
All! with hot, trembling fingers find
It 1t does exactly as I thought it
would do.
With that broad o.d ring always on,
need fear no discovery. None but my
self would know that under it lay